


Happily Never After

by orphan_account



Category: The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: F/M, I just wanted them to have a good wedding, sgebigbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24237511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This is the fairy tale ending we’ve been waiting for. Fighting for all this time. Isn’t it?(Began before the events of OTK, will probably need editing after, basically an after The End adventure with all your favourites)Is a Big Bang work but I’m new to the online fandom so no one will notice ahaha
Relationships: Agatha/Tedros (The School for Good and Evil), Tagatha - Relationship
Kudos: 18





	Happily Never After

Agatha knew palace life wasn’t going to be easy. Even after Camelot was back to its glory, or at least on its way there, and Sophie had returned as Dean of Evil once more (with much, much more frequent visits from to Camelot, to Tedros’s dismay) she knew it’d be a lot of hard work.  
The hardest was all the paper work. Agatha always wandered what princesses and queens did after the end of their fairytales. Work wasn’t something that had entered her mind at any point.  
She had her own office, and she was awfully glad to be a part of things, but sometimes it was a lot. Agatha was sick of seeing her own signature, her own writing. Sick of reading the words “law” and “prestigious” and especially (especially!!) “Your Royal Highness”. And to add on top of all of the work, she had a wedding to plan. Her wedding. After everything that had happened, she had almost forgot. 

Getting back to the castle had been such a relief, after exposing Japeth and Rhian (God rest his soul) for what they had really done, earning the people’s trust back had been a long tiresome task. But arriving back to Camelot after sweeping around pretty much the entire Woods, everyone was exhausted. Their friends had stayed in the castle that night, leaving back to their respective quests or homes or schools the next morning. Everyone fell to sleep awfully quickly that night, even Sophie who forgot to do her nighttime skin care routine and was aghast about it in the morning. Agatha had been standing in her bedroom, staring out of the massive castle window at the deep black of the night, she took a deep breathe, trying to feel it all, every last drop of what they’d done. What they’d accomplished. A pair of arms had snuck their way around her waist. A little shocked at first, her hands latched onto the sturdy arms around her, but she knew who it was.  
“You scared me,” she muttered to the window, squeezing the arms gently as a face wandered through her hair to her neck.  
“I’m sorry my love, I just knew you’d still be awake.”  
“How come? Am I usually a night owl?”  
“We both know you’re usually passed out by Nine.”  
Agatha snorted, it felt good to laugh, Tedros smiled in her neck, he hadn’t heard that sound in too long.  
“I just knew.”  
Agatha sighed gently and leant back into him. He was shirtless, she noted with a blush, does this kid even own a shirt? Was she really complaining? Her black dress was thin, not her usual one but one she likes just as much, and the chill in the castle that night was raising goosebumps on her arms. Tedros rubbed them gently and kissed under her jaw. There wasn’t any words they needed to say. They’d all been said. This, this moment, the window, the sky, his lips, her rosy cheeks, this was enough. Tedros’s lips were moving now though, from under her jaw to her neck, to her collar bone, her blush seemed to be getting hotter.  
“Mr Pendragon!” She said in mock shock.  
“Mrs Pendragon?” Agatha could swear she melted right then and there. But she wasn’t afraid to be his wife. Wasn’t afraid to be his Queen. She was afraid of a wedding. 

Weeks later, when in the middle of getting ready, she was “politely” shoved down a marble corridor and into a large marble room.  
“I didn’t get to put my shoes on,” grouched Agatha, wiggling her toss against the cold floor and yawning. Her shoes were the one thing she’d fought to keep. As a soon to be Queen, it was often up to others to decide how to dress her for whatever occasion, and so her black dresses were becoming increasingly unused. However, the dresses they chose never came above her ankles, which Agatha was rather happy for, based on the fact she didn’t want people to see her legs, knobbly and stick thin as they were. But this also meant, she could get away with wearing her clumps. And recently, Robin Hood, bless his heart, dropped her a present off. It came in a simple wooden box with a tag that read, “Only the finest in Sherwood Forest.” They had been the most incredible things Agatha had ever laid her eyes on. Black, dark leather boots, lace ups with zips on the sides. She adores them. Unhealthily. Maybe a little more than Tedros. Maybe. And to her delight, both her new boots and her clumps fit under her dresses. But back to the point.  
So Agatha standing in the tall white marble room, and her stewardesses and fiddling with her dress and hair, fixing anything they missed, when a tall, slim lady, with beautiful pale skin and long, platinum blonde hair came into the room. She looked sort of like Sophie, Agatha thought, but her cheek bones were higher, and her eyes smaller and a dark blue colour rather than green. And unlike Sophie, her smile felt warm and real, not cheeky and cold. The lady bowed and Agatha wriggled her toes uncomfortably from under her dress, she’d have to get used to people bowing for her eventually.  
“Your Majesty,” the lady spoke in a high, singsong voice, closer up Agatha noticed how young she was, maybe a year or two older than herself. ‘This is the kind of woman the kingdom wanted Tedros to marry’ Agatha though childishly, and then chastised herself immediately for it. ‘You’ve proved yourself to Camelot, and to the Woods.’ Agatha sighed through her nose, ‘The Royal Roy still thinks I’m a witch,’ ‘And since when do we read the Royal Rot?’  
“Your Majesty?” It appeared the pretty woman had said something, but Agatha had been awfully lost in her head.  
“Uh, sorry sorry, could you repeat that?” She tried to sound nice, but her voice seemed to always have a rough edge to it.  
“I was just saying, I’m going to be your head wedding planner, well besides you and your dear friend Sophie of course,” Agatha had to hold back laughter at that one. Sophie wouldn’t be happy about this. The lady, who said her name was Isabella, began to list off different areas of wedding planning. Agatha wondered vaguely why she hadn’t been prepared for this before today, why the floor was so cold, and why Tedros didn’t have to plan anything, which she thought was really stupid and sexist and kind of sad, because wasn’t it his wedding too? The wedding was scheduled for two months from now. Which on that morning, Agatha had thought was a long time. It turns out two months feels sort of like 10 minutes. Especially when you’re not allowed to see the love of your life. Or your friends.  
The amount of times people had said to her “At the the wedding dear,” was really, really starting to get to her. She’d almost cried writing the invites out, remembering all her friends, out there on their own adventures. None of them had really had time to write, and she couldn’t be mad at them, she hadn’t either, the only thing she’d been writing other than the aforementioned paper work, was the odd letter to Sophie about wedding planning, and the wedding planner, she did get an odd sort of joy about Sophie’s angry reply, but it fizzled our quickly. Things were better than when she had first been in Camelot of course, so much had changed, but her and Tedros still barley crossed paths. Camelot had an odd tradition of not letting the Groom see the Bride for a whole week before the wedding (Agatha had heard of the Wedding Day of course, but a whole week?) and not being able to see him made things worse. 

When the wedding was two weeks away, and she’d picked a cake (a vanilla and strawberry one that just the smell of had made her tongue tingle) and Sophie had picked the flowers (because Agatha thought they were all either very pretty or very overkill) and invites to pretty much the entire of Camelot and some of the rest of the woods had been sent out (she had to pack her hand in ice after that, why was it custom that the soon to be Queen write every invite herself?) and she’d made sure that Hester and her coven were really, really, actually intending on attending, after ALL of that, Agatha was, understandably, exhausted. After dinner, which she ate with a duke from another kingdom (to be completely honest, she couldn’t remember even a tiny bit of his name or which kingdom he came from, only that he had a rather large and round nose and spoke as if someone had plugged both his nostrils), Agatha wandered down to the gardens. She liked to walk to the very far edge, this late in the year, the gardeners usually hadn’t gotten around to taming this bit yet, so it was a little overgrown. It felt like graves hill, if she closed her eyes and didn’t smell, and made the hustle and bustle of the streets far away dim down, and let her fingers tips brush along the soft, wet ends of the grass, it felt like graves hill. It wasn’t that she wanted to be anywhere else, or was trying to wish herself back there, it was empty now, and wasn’t her home, it was just calming, when the stress of Camelot got to her. She opened her eyes and watched her breath mist out in front of her, and then laughed at herself. Glancing back up at the castle, dark and orange windows constraining closely, she looked for him. Searching, higher and higher, up the blue and white stone, the marble and the glass, until she reached the floor she knew Tedros’s bedroom was on. ‘He won’t be in there, he’ll be in his office, working.’ But she stared in anyway. Why was she so nervous? Surely not to marry Tedros. She knew she loved him, she even loved there fights and there shouting, she loved the way his ears got pink when he was mad and pale when he was sacred. She was ready to marry him, after the mess they’d been through, they deserved a happy ending. No, it wasn’t marrying him, she thought sombrely, tracing the pain of his bedroom window with her eyes, it was being in front of all of those people, all of those eyes, watching her, judging her. She couldn’t hide or pretend that they were looking at someone else. It was HER wedding. It was like a birthday party, and everyone would be there. Everyone. She shivered gently. Candle light flickered to life in Tedros’s bedroom. His shadow cast over the ceiling and her appeared at the window, staring out over the gardens and his kingdom. When he noticed his princess, his queen, looking up at him in his shirt and a pair of his breeches and those boots she’d come to love so much, he smiled.  
‘You’re not getting married for everyone,’ Agatha thought as she smiled right back at him,‘you’re getting married for him. For your happy ending, with him. You can do this.’

No. No she could not. Because there was way more people than she thought. Agatha was t sure exactly what a panic attack looked like, but sitting on the floor of your massive bathroom with a bowl of spaghetti in your underwear hyperventilating, might be something similar to one. Sophie knew this would happen. She knocked gently on the door, “Aggie?” No answer, just like the last five times she tried. “Agatha, you have 5 hours left to get ready-“ Agatha heard Isabella say from the other side of the door, her breathing picked up.  
“Excuse me, Ella-“  
“It’s Isabella-“  
“Don’t interrupt me, look, we really appreciate, all of your help, but I think I can handle this, mhm, thank you.” Sophie practically pushed Isawhatever out of the door. She was so done with that girl.  
“Aggie, it’s going to be okay.” Sophie thought she was somewhat of an expert when she came to Agatha, which is why on the coach ride over here with Hort and Nichola, she had predicted, out loud mind you, that Agatha was going to freak out, take a bowl of food and lock her self away in a cupboard. She had been 3 1/4’s right and that was more than enough to make her a little smug, but she reminded herself again and again, that this was Agatha’s day. Agatha loved Tedros, Sophie knew that, and she wouldn’t regret marrying him even a little bit, but Agatha hated crowds and lots and lots of eyes. The dress Sophie had picked out was beautiful, she assured Agatha through the door, but that didn’t seem to help things at all. They went through everyone, The coven came in, wearing the bridesmaids dresses Sophie had picked, Sophie was in a dark navy shade, Hester in a slightly lighter blue, Anadil in a lighter shade than that, a middle shade of blue, and Dot in a very light blue. The Groomsmen’s ties did the same. Tedros had a dark blue accent on his black uniform. The entire theme was blue, blue like flowers and not like the ocean, Agatha and Sophie had said that a same time, and they hadn’t really agreed on a lot, so Isabella had been so so happy to tick off on that. When they finally brought Hort in, after exhausting the coven, Nichola, William and Bogden, and Princess Uma, Sophie decided it was time for a last resort. 

Hort couldn’t stop playing with his tie. It looked stupid and it felt stupid and he couldn’t believe he was a Groomsman. Or that he was not wandering around Camelot castle, 3 hours until the wedding was due to begin, looking for Tedros. Him. Looking for Tedros. For Agatha. In Camelot. On their Wedding day. Who was he? He thought of himself, clad in frog pyjamas, and wondered if he would hate himself now. Probably. He tried to avoid where he knew the guests were filtering in, he didn’t want to deal with people until he absolute had too. ‘If I was Tedros, before my wedding, where would I be?’ Probably in the gym, he chortled to himself, and then pondered it a little harder, turning around from where he was walking and taking the stairs down towards the newly furnished gym, he wondered why he hadn’t thought of this first. Of course, as he had predicted, there was Tedros, one steward standing at the door, his closest night, Micheal, wearing the same outfit as Hort, his tie a darker colour, was standing leaning against a wall, looking amused. Tedros was (unintentionally obnoxiously) pulling himself up and down on a bar with one hand, his shoes and shirt discarded but his trousers still on, ranting nervously to Micheal. Micheal nodded his head gently, clearly listening but not being able to fit a word in sideways, and Hort silently pondered for a second where Guinevere and Merlin were, and then remembered he didn’t really care, and had one job to do. He hadn’t meant to scare him off the bar, not really, promise.  
“Tedros?” It was loud, maybe just a little louder than he’d meant it, but he’d enjoyed the site of Tedros trying to scramble himself up off the gym floor with dignity as Micheal laughed and his steward helped him back into his clothes.  
‘Doesn’t even need to worry about sweating does he? Bet his sweat smells like roses’ Hort sneered, but it was playful, and he patted Tedros on the shoulder when he was close enough.  
“Agatha needs you,”  
“But I’m not allowed to-“  
“Yeah no ones seen her for about two hours mate, we don’t need you to look at her, just calm her down.”  
“She’s panicked?” Tedros looked worried, but Hort could see the hurt buried deep in his eyes and rushed to explain, he hated that he cared about Tedros’s emotions now. Who was he?  
“She wants to get married, I’m pretty sure, it’s just a lot for her,” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously,” you know?”  
The hurt was still there, but there seemed to be something more like admiration in them, and he nodded and thanked Hort, in a gentle voice Hort had never heard, and jogged off to Agatha’s room. Hort was puzzled for a moment.  
“Huh,” he said to himself, though Micheal was there, seemingly debating between going to great guests and following his King, “he really does love her doesn’t he?” Hort scuffed his shoe on the floor, and thought about the wish fish from long ago. He was shocked when Michael’s voice replied,  
“Of course he does, have you never heard him talk about her?”  
“Not really?”  
“He turns into a total puppy, he’s soft for her, even if he’s got a harsh exterior sometimes, she’s everything to him.”  
Hort was silent, he looked the way Tedros had jogged of and smiled. Maybe Agatha could do a little better, but in all fairness, Tedros was pretty damn good. 

Tedros didn’t know what to expect when he got there, but the coven with Nichola and Sophie, with William and Bogden, all looking a little red in the face sitting outside of Agatha’s bathroom door, was not what he expected. At all. Sophie looked up at him, and he didn’t think he’d seen her look so angry, and he’d seen her in a hellish, murderous rage, so that was saying something. She seemed to be panting rather aggressively.  
“Agatha-bathroom-2 1/2-hours-not-ready-need-ahhh” she then fell backwards into an a chair, which she proceed to get up and sit in, checking her make up in Agatha’s vanity mirror, which she had to flip the other way as Agatha had been using the chalkboard side to write a to-do-list. Tedros thought he had the idea of things, so he knocked lighting on Agatha’s bathroom door, nervously adjusting Excalibur at his hip. A small noise, a breathy, sad, groan, came from the other side. Tedros’s heart crumpled a little. It was their wedding day, he understood that pressure could get to her sometimes, but he wanted her to be happy, as happy as she could be.  
“Hey Agatha?” He didn’t even recognise his own voice, it was unbelievably soft, and gentle, but it always was when Agatha felt like this. He was hit with a strong wave of something he didn’t have a word for and his eyes began to sting. To stop himself crying, he just started talking, spiting out all the words he’s been too proud to say.  
“Agatha, I know you’re scared, I’m scared too, believe me, even I think that’s a lot of people, and I’ve been in the public eye for a long, long time, but just remember this isn’t about them, it’s not about the other kingdoms or the people or pleasing anyone, not even our friends,” he looked at the coven, because they were closest to him, and Hester mouthed ‘our friends’ making quotation marks with her fingers, but Tedros was too deep in his emotions to even respond to her, “it’s about us. That’s what matters right now. And if I know when I see you today, everything else is going to melt away, and it’s just gonna be you Agatha, looking beautiful in your dress, and so nervous, and your cheeks will go all pink, and you’ll snort when you see me crying but you’ll probably be crying a little bit too, and we’ll be a mess, but it’s okay, because we’re getting married. Married! We made it Ags. We made it. And I-“ The tears were rolling before he could stop them,”-I love you so much Agatha. I wish I told you that more. I can’t wait for you to be my wife.” There was a long silence, and as Tedros peered around, a little embarrassed, he noticed everyone looking at him, with soft looks in their eyes, especially Hort, who was standing with Micheal at the door way.  
“Told you so,” whispered Micheal, punching Hort in the arm and walking out. Tedros was about to follow him, when he felt the door move from beneath his palm, he saw part of a big, brown eye, and heard a voice he knew so well,  
“I love you more. I can’t wait to be your wife.” And then the bathroom door shut again, but it was clear to everyone, that Agatha was planning on coming out. Because of what Tedros said? Or because she finished her pasta? We may never know.  
Once all the boys had left, Agatha come out of the bathroom, in just her undergarments, a little sauce around her lips with puffy eyes. Dot hugged her and she hugged back, strong, she felt tears begin to brim at her eyes so she looked to Hester for support, and a little laughter. Hester grinned at her,  
“Who knew you were marrying such a softie hey?” That sent the whole room into giggles and snorts. The stewardesses and Sophie did hair and makeup, which Agatha forced them to keep minimal, she wanted to look like herself. Her hair has grown out over these past few months, so her Wedding planning team decide they want to curl it, just lightly, so it falls in gentle waves to her shoulder blades, Agatha doesn’t complain, she thinks it looks lovely really, but she doesn’t say that either. Then it’s time for the wedding dress. Sophie had purposefully kept her away from it, sending letters asking for random measurements and if Agatha had any preferences, which she did not. And so when Agatha saw the dress, she didn’t really have any expectations.  
And still, she was blown away. She opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was the blue flowers, woven in her hair, falling with the curls. Then the dress. It was white, pure white, but not in a way that washed Agatha’s skin out. The front was lacy, and complemented what little chest she had, but didn’t expose her so much so that she was uncomfortable. It was strapless, but her hair fell gently over her shoulders, so you couldn’t really tell. The front was lace over silk, Agatha thought it looked like flowers almost like the ones in her hair, but the pattern clearly wasn’t meant to be deciphered. Just above her waist, the bottom of the dress made a sort of arrow shape up into the top, and then flowed down in complete silk, where it sat just above her ankles at the front, and touched the floor at the back. It wasn’t obnoxious, or huge, it was simple, and perfect, and Sophie clearly made some of it herself. Agatha smiled, a real smile, wide and toothy, and she felt beautiful. Sophie was crying and so was Dot, Nichola was smiling widely in her light green satin dress, and Hester and Anadil were holding hands, staring at Agatha in adoration.  
“I won’t cry. Because Sophie will hit me, for ruining my makeup,” everyone chuckled and Sophie raised a knowing eyebrow, “so I’ll just say, thank you. Thank you for being my friends...shoes?” Sophie’s expression dropped, but Hester grinned.  
“I told them they could pick one part of the outfit, here’s me thinking you’ll end up in a little bone charm bracelet or something, but no, they have to chose the shoes. Dear God.”  
Hester cackled and stood up from the chair she was in, and went over to Agatha’s closet. She pulled out a pair of shoes that Agatha had seen many, many times before, they were shined and looked more badass then they usually did, and Agatha really did almost cry. 

With half an hour to go, Tedros was in the church. And he was sweating, more than he would in the gym. Micheal was talking to him, but it sort of sounding like a buzzing in his ear. Times like these he wished he developed a nervous habit as a child, just for something to do with his hands over than feel them sweat folded in each other. He knew once he saw Agatha, it would all be okay, he was just nervous that he would mess things up. Or that he wouldn’t be a good husband, like he hadn’t been a good King. The idea terrified him. He wanted to support Agatha, like she’d supported him all these years.  
“-and does that make me Agatha’s knight too? Who am I more loyal too? What if she gives me an order but you give me the opposite one? You’d think I follow you because you’re the King by blood, but Agatha is scary and I-“ Tedros let it fade into buzz again, he loved Micheal, he really did, but the guy was a little much sometimes. He tried to settle his nerves by focuses on everything else, the people at the church less than the people at the reception, but it was still a lot. At least one person from every kingdom in the woods was there, Tedros was sure, maybe not all the never kingdoms, but definitely all the ever kingdoms. Those members, that didn’t particularly belong on either side of the church, spread themselves across both pews. Then there were those that were with the respective sides. Guinevere and Merlin were the people he recognised immediately on his side, along with Beatrix and a few other of their ever classmates. His Fathers friends, people he hadn’t seen for years. He turned to Micheal next to him and imagined him one place over, in a darker tie, imagined Chaddick in his spot, patting him on the shoulder. It calmed him down, but also made his heart sting. He should be here. They should all be here. And then, a tiny voice in his head spoke up.  
‘They are.’  
Agatha’s side was still busy of course, Sophie’s family from Galahad been invited without Sophie’s notice, there was Nichola and Robin Hood, Marian and his men, looking awfully smart. Then, the aforementioned guests from other kingdoms. It looked a little sparser that Tedros’s side, but, Tedros thought wiping his hand down his trousers, reader weddings to people from the Woods probably always looked a little like this. Who was walking Agatha down the aisle?  
Stephan was in his seat, so it couldn’t be him. And Merlin was-wait, where was Merlin? Tedros’s eyes searched the pews for him again, but the wizard was gone.  
And then the music started. Sophie was first down the isle, of course, because even though it wasn’t her big day, it was HER big day. She had a basket full of blue flower petals, and Hort wasn’t sure that someone could be both the Maid of Honour and the flower girl, but he didn’t think anyone was going to correct her. The petals were small, and seemed to be shifting through different shades of blue. She reached the top of the isle and looked and Tedros, and for a moment they made eye contact, and smiled.  
Then Hester, Anadil, and Dot came down the isle, all looking rather proud of themselves in their dresses, carrying small bouquets of blue flowers, Hester had even temporarily changed the red streaks in her hair to blue ones to match her dress. Later, everyone would find out that it was Sophie who’d done this, but Hester hadn’t had enough time or space to choke her. The demon on Hesters neck didn’t even look at angry as it usually did, or maybe that was just Tedros’s eyes. When all the bridesmaids had arrived, the music picked up, and any light chatter fell into silence. Everyone was on edge, waiting to see Agatha. And then she came through the doors, escorted by Merlin, and Tedros forgot how to breathe.  
He knew she was beautiful. Definitely more than she or anyone else knew it, but God, she really was perfect. She looked up at him, and it took the both of them everything to not run into each other’s arms. He looked her up and down, taking in the lace bodice, the silky skirt and- oh God. Her clumps. He laughed out loud. And she snorted at him, tapping her shoes together, ‘There’s my girl,’ he mouthed. Agatha was crying lightly, and Tedros realised he was too, but he didn’t even try to wipe the tears. Maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seen her in a week, but as soon as she got to the alter, he took her hand and squeezed at the same time she did.  
Just before the ceremony started, he leant over to her, and whispered gently in her ear, “Forever.”  
“Forever.”

The ceremony was long winded, and at some point Merlin’s hat set off a small firework, but everyone seemed to wake up just before the end.  
“-I know pronounce you, King and Queen, you may kiss the-“ But Agatha was already kissing Tedros, and everyone was already clapping and crying and cheering, and so no more words really needed to be said. 

The head table was a circle, not a rectangle. Which Agatha supposed had some significance in Camelot, but she didn’t feel like now was a good time to bring up King Arthur. At the table was, of course, Tedros and Agatha, Sophie and the Coven, Hort (who still wasn’t sure exactly why he was here), Guinevere (who seemed happy but quiet) and Merlin. There classmates and other friends were at tables near by, and often people came over to talk to Tedros and Agatha, and congratulate them. On their second course (there was five in total, per Agatha’s appetite) Agatha caught Guinevere staring at her. She met her gaze.  
“Sorry dear, just realised they haven’t crowned you yet.”  
“Yeah, I asked for them to do it after the meal, I knew I’d be really hungry so,” Agatha shoved a mouthful of food into her mouth, and her wedding planner and etiquette teacher scowled after her from across the room. She gave them a thumbs up. Hester and Anadil fell into cackles, they really were a sight.  
“You know,” said Tedros, eyeing the witches,” I don’t think there’s ever been Never’s at the head table of a Camelot wedding.”  
“Well then, I’m glad to be the first,”  
“Sophie there’s 4 of us,”  
“5!” Shouted Hort from opposite them and everyone laughed again. When everyone broke off into their own little conversations, Agatha leant into Tedros’s shoulder.  
“We did it.”  
“We did.”  
Her hand was tracing patterns into his knee, and she gently moved one finger up his thigh and smiled gently to herself. She was really here. They’d done it. Tedros’s breath caught above her as she looked up to see him very red faced, staring at the hand she had on his thigh. She gasped and punched him playfully.  
“Mr Pendragon!”  
“Mrs Pendragon!” He tickled her side lightly and kissed her forehead. 

After the meal, they had moved to a massive (seriously ridiculously huge) ballroom, and Agatha and Tedros had had there first dance. Which went we considering Agatha was wearing her clumps and also that Agatha was Agatha. And there had been what felt like hours of dance and music and cake cutting and voices and shouting and Sophie flirting with people way too young and way too old for her. When it was around midnight, the guests began to filter out, and when it got to half past, the official end of the first (yes first!) day of celebrations, pretty much everyone was gone. The only people left we’re The Coven, Nichola, Hort, Sophie and of course, Tedros and Agatha. They’d been left alone in the ballroom, a few staff milling around cleaning up the mess everyone had left.  
“Mad,” said Hort, looking around him.  
“What’s mad?” Nichola peered up at him from her seat at the table.  
“We’re alive.” A silence fell as everyone let the weight of that sit on their shoulders.  
***

They’d never stayed in the same bed happily before. Back in Gavaldon hadn’t been the best of times, and it’s remembered as somewhat of an inside joke with both Tedros and Agatha. Tedros’s bed was huge. His room, bigger than Agatha’s old house on graves hill. The ceiling was high and gold embellished. Agatha would’ve noted more, it was beautiful really, but suddenly someone’s warm hands were on her hips and the night slipped away from her.


End file.
